Chapter 464: Forming the Array

Summer arrives on the Crimean Peninsula earlier than in Moscow.

The sea breeze from the Black Sea blows from the south, carrying a salty, briny scent and the distant smell of gunpowder.

Zhu Yong stands at the northern end of the Perekopi Gorge, gazing at the narrow strip of land to the south.

At its narrowest, the gorge is less than Eight Li wide; the Black Sea lies to the left, the Sea of Azov to the right, and the two waters shimmer in varying shades of blue under the sun.

This is the Crimean Khanate's only link to the continent, and also their final line of defense.

"Prince, the scout has returned," Wang Gui rode back from ahead, his face marked by wind‑blown sand.

Zhu Yong took the military report and unfolded it.

Great Khan Haji Glei of the Crimean Khanate gathered all the men capable of fighting at Bakhchisaray on the peninsula's southern tip, added reinforcements summoned from the Ottoman Empire, mustering roughly thirty thousand troops, and erected three lines of defense at the gorge's narrowest point.

The artillery, about a hundred guns, was shipped from the Ottoman Empire and positioned at the forefront.

Cavalry took the two flanks, infantry held the center.

"Thirty thousand..." Zhu Yong folded the report and slipped it into his sleeve.

After the fall of the Moscow Principality, few powers remained on the European continent capable of waging war.

The Crimean Khanate was one of them.

The remnants of the Mongol Golden Tent Khanate, which founded a state on the Crimean Peninsula two hundred years ago, have in recent years acted as a thorn for Lithuania and Moscow.

"Second Prince, this gorge is hard to fight through," Zhu Di rode over, map in hand.

Zhu Yong glanced at the map; from north to south there is only this single road, sea on the left and sea on the right. A forced charge is possible, but casualties would be heavy.

"No forced charge; we'll go around by sea. The fleet will land from the Black Sea behind their defenses, striking from front and rear," Zhu Yong said, pointing at the map.

Zhu Di stared for a moment, then nodded, "I'll lead the vanguard."

Zhu Yong gave his brother a glance; Zhu Di has spent more time at sea than on land, having led attacks on Barcelona, Genoa, and Venice.

"Alright, you advance by sea; I'll press from the front. Once you break through behind their line, I'll cross the gorge from this side."

Zhu Di grinned, turned his horse toward the harbor.

Following the coastline westward for forty li, there is a natural good harbor.

The fleet gathers there, skirts the peninsula, lands on the southwestern shore of the Black Sea, then moves eastward via the Land Route, heading straight for Bakhchisaray.

Forty thousand Longxiang Army troops push south along the gorge.

The road is narrow, only wide enough for ten wagons side by side; sea on both sides, the wind howling, making the flags flutter noisily.

After about an hour's march, the first Crimean defense line appeared ahead.

Trenches, wooden palisades, artillery.

Zhu Yong halted his horse, squinting as he watched for a while.

"Form the array..."

The forty‑thousand army began to form its array on the gorge; five hundred breech‑loading cannons were lined up in a row, their muzzles aimed at the Crimean defenses across the water.

On the city walls, the faces of the Crimean defenders changed.

They had never seen so many armored troops, nor so many cannons.

Several nobles on horseback rode back and forth before the formation, brandishing curved blades and shouting something.

"Fire..."

The five hundred breech‑loading cannons fired simultaneously.

Shrapnel shells ripped through the sea breeze, striking the Crimean defenses.

The trenches were blown apart, the wooden palisades blasted away, and the cannons were sent soaring into the sky.

Mongol cavalry surged from both wings, attempting to encircle, but the gorge was too narrow for the horsemen to maneuver.

The front ranks of Flintlock Gunmen fired in unison; rows of cavalry at the front fell, the following riders unable to rein in their horses, trampled comrades' bodies and kept charging, only to be cut down by the second volley.

After three successive volleys, more than half of the Crimean cavalry were lost, and the survivors turned and fled.

The infantry fared worse, lacking artillery cover or cavalry support, scattering in panic as shells exploded around them.

The first line fell in less than half an hour.

Zhu Yong did not pause, pressing the army forward.

The second line was sturdier than the first, with deeper trenches, thicker palisades, and more cannons.

The same tactics: bombardment, volley fire, and charge.

In under an hour, the second line also collapsed.

The third line, north of Bakhchisaray city, was the final defense personally commanded by Haji Glei.

Fifteen thousand troops, backed against the city walls, formed a battle array to await.

Zhu Yong halted his horse, gazing at the distant Bakhchisaray.

"Prince, the fleet has landed and is hurrying this way," Wang Gui rode over.

Haji Glei's face turned iron‑blue; the third line would not hold much longer, nor would the southern Bakhchisaray city. He had fought his whole life and had never seen an army like this.

Arrows could not kill, swords could not cut, and artillery could blast the walls from several li away.

This is not war; it is slaughter.

"Great Khan, Ming forces have been spotted to the south!" a scout shouted, his face ashen.

Haji Glei spun around sharply and saw a sheet of iron‑black tide on the southern horizon, surging from the direction of Bakhchisaray.

His complexion grew even paler.

Caught between front and rear, the fifteen thousand troops broke apart in under two hours.

Haji Glei fled south with a few hundred Imperial Troops, but after less than five li, Zhu Di's Longxiang Army unit blocked his path.

"I surrender, I surrender..." Haji Glei leapt from his horse and knelt on the ground.

Zhu Di halted his horse, looking down from his height at the Crimean Great Khan.

It would have been fine if it had been like this earlier.

The Crimean Khanate is over from today.

At dusk, Zhu Yong stood on the walls of Bakhchisaray City, gazing at the southern horizon.

Toward the Black Sea.

Crimea has been seized, and the Ottoman Empire's northern gateway has been pierced.

The Ottoman Empire, the last country on the European continent that can still wrestle with Great Ming.

In fact, as early as the 19th year of Hongwu, Ottoman Sultan Baye Jide I was captured alive by Zhu Yong and locked in a prison in Yingtian Prefecture.

But the Ottoman Empire did not collapse.

Baye Jide's sons fled back to Bursa, reassembled their forces, and again seized vast territories in Anatolia and the Balkan Peninsula.

Now, the Crimean Khanate is annihilated, and the Ottoman Empire's northern gateway lies open.

Their new sultan is Muhammad I, Baye Jide's third son, who can endure more than his father.

These past years they have been gathering strength, restoring power, waiting to settle a deadly battle with Great Ming.

"Second Prince, Haji Ge Lai has already sent someone to Yingtian Prefecture," Zhu Di walked up from below the city.

Zhu Yong nodded, his gaze never leaving the southern horizon.

"What's the plan from here?" Zhu Di asked.

"Southward, the Ottoman Empire."

Zhu Di's eyes lit up; he had been waiting for this day for two years.

He remembered that years ago, beneath Constantinople's walls, Second Prince said that someday they would hoist Great Ming's banner on Constantinople's walls; now it was time to make it happen.

"Issue the order: the whole army will rest in Bakhchisaray for three days, then march south after three days, target Constantinople."

The Command was transmitted.